


Promise Forever.

by Meowzalot



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mycroft Feels, Mycroft's Ring, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 05:08:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowzalot/pseuds/Meowzalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft never takes the damn ring off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise Forever.

Everyone who saw the ring made the same assumption. Very few were bold enough to ask. Even fewer actually got an answer about the gold band worn every hour of every day. The perfectly polished gold standing out like a sore thumb on the dear Mycroft Holmes.

Never one for foolish emotions it was merely a reminder of a rather regrettable time in his youth. A memory that was kept tethered to his heart. Logic had told him many times to rid himself of the little object but removing it only resulted in a careful cleaning, pale eyes flickering to the faint tan line worn into his finger.

In those moments his mind would flutter to an embarrassing spot. A pair of pale pink lips curling into a sad smile as a small hand took his, placing the ring gently into his palm. A carefully worded ‘Goodbye’ and then his mind would come back to where it needed to be. Logic would, again, tell him to be rid of the gold band only until he slipped it back on.  
Not even baby Holmes knew the story. The basics were there, of course.

There had been a woman. A woman never introduced to the family but Sherlock had known something when Mycroft came home smelling of something floral and sweet. That was as far as Mycroft had allowed things to go. While he would dig into Sherlocks private life until it was spread open he would never allow anyone to return the favor.

 

“Don’t you think it’s strange it’s been about a week and Mycroft hasn’t said a word? Not a call, text, nothing that involves kidnapping me in hopes of finding out about you.” John commented, watching his flat mate where he sat staring at the wall. There was barely a reaction as Sherlock stood then, starting a pace around the flat. 

“What’s the date?”

It was such a random reply to his statement that, for a moment, John just frowned until those sharp eyes turned to him. “John. . “ He warned. It was always a long couple of days when Sherlock got into a mood like this. No actual cases, leaving him bored and annoyed.

After John replied he stopped moving, something different crossing his face. “Mycroft won’t be ‘borrowing’ you for at least another week. Quite a relief actually.” Sherlock explained. It would be grand not to have the elder Holmes pestering him every few hours like some mother hen but there was another thought in the back of his mind. Even as John started to ask he could see it wouldn’t actually get an answer.

“John, could you go to the market?”

“I just went the other day. What could you possibly need now?” He asked, looking up from the computer screen. It was completely absurd if they’d actually run out of anything already. “Please could you go to the market? I don’t really give a damn what you buy.”

It was the ‘please’ that caught his attention completely. For a moment it left him speechless, eyes going wide for a moment until Sherlock let out a frustrated sigh. “Sure. I’ll just grab a few more things. Anything. . anything else you need, Sherlock?”

The caring tone always threw Sherlock for a bit of a loop. Just having someone like John Watson around threw him for a loop. Which did say a great deal for their situation. “Just take your time, would you? Text when on your way back.”

Even with John leaving the flat there was the distinct scent of his body spray mixing in with the natural scent that was him. Standing at the window Sherlocks careful eyes watched the man walk down the street, taking in a small breath to clear his mind.

Instead of catching an extra whiff of John there was an almost choking aroma in the flat. A delicate scent that seemed to wrap around his throat.

“Sherlock Holmes. Looking as well as ever.”

The voice matched the scent. Belying delicate tone that hid the power. No doubt she had watched John leave the flat, unnoticed by all despite how much she stood out.  
Looking into the reflection of the window he noticed the copper red curls that hung around her shoulders, the hazel eyes meeting his without a moment of hesitation.  
“What should I call you this time around?” He asked, tone almost mocking as she gave a little smirk with that perfect cupid bow mouth.

“Irene sounds rather nice.”

The heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach settled for a moment, causing him to break eye contact first. “You’re worse than Mycroft. Go bother him. I have nothing to offer you.”  
Silent steps carried her to a quite familiar sitting chair, fingers brushing over the arm rest before she sat carefully. “You know why I come here, Sherlock. How is he doing?”

They both knew who ‘he’ was. Now Sherlock turned around to actually face his unwelcome guest. In the blink of an eye he had gotten almost all the information he wanted from her without a word being exchanged. 

“What makes you think I even pay attention to his well-being? It’s really quite a boring past time.”

“Because, baby Holmes, you are like your brother. Everything is seen, everything is observed. Even if you don’t want to you examine everything. I know you see Mycroft, if only because he shows up without warning.”

She’d started showing up only a few years ago. From the start Sherlock had known exactly what she wanted. Never had he asked but it didn’t need to be. She came, spoke to him and left. It was just fascinating in regards to how human emotion worked.

Mycroft had always been the one to drill into his head that emotions were a weakness, and they truly were a burden. So, it was almost comical to know, that at this point every year, Mycroft Holmes would almost shut himself away from everything and this woman would appear.

Crossing his arms he watched her eyes flicker around the flat, taking in the new details of another human being living here. “He has started at least three different diets this year alone. None have worked to his liking. As for what you really wish to know, yes, he’s still wearing it.”

There was a slight sat to her shoulders, unmasked relief as the fingers of one hand twisted at the gold band on her own finger. From the sight perfectly polished, completely well taken care of. As their eyes met again she gave something close to a smile. Not that it reached her eyes. It rarely did. “Is he now? Interesting to hear.” She chuckled, standing now and brushing out imaginary dust off the edge of her black dress.

“Do you ever hate me for this, Sherlock?”

“Hate? You aren’t as sharp as I would have thought to ask something like that. We both know why you come here. I simply find it interesting that my dear brother has no idea, despite the close eye he keeps on me.” Sherlock said with a small shrug. Even with the bright hair, clingy dress and gaze that could tear apart even a Holmes brother she moved around like a ghost. Look away too soon and she would simply be gone. Sherlock had also found that interesting to behold.

When her gaze lingered down at the ring on her hand she gave a small sigh, walking around the flat. “Yes. We both know exactly why I come to his little brother instead of use my strings to watch him. Temptation is quite a thing, don’t you think? Maybe it speaks poorly that I’m worried I can’t control myself. That lazy oaf is rather adorable.”

To hear anyone speak of Mycroft like that was a surprise. “That new helper of yours. Dr. Watson? Seems to be quite the positive influence on you, baby Holmes.” She giggled, walking towards him now. Even with the perfectly feminine form standing so close there was nothing, on either side. “You have his eyes, you know that? Perfectly bright, perfectly sharp.” She added, already reaching up to fix his tie.

“You say that every time.” He sighed with a roll of his eyes, allowing the long fingers to fix the already perfectly adjusted tie. Beyond the eyes there was nothing alike about him and Mycroft. That’s why it stopped with the tie, the shirt collar, whatever else she felt needed fixing. “I should go before your new friend returns. Thank you again, Sherlock. You’re always such a sweetie.”

A delicate kiss to the cheek and she left, looking more pleased and more depressed. His gaze went back to the window, trying to track her in the thin crowd of people that lingered around. For a moment he caught sight of bright copper hair before having to blink, cursing his own weakness when she was gone. One of the top in her field. It was her job to blend in when needed, be a shadow.

There was no doubt where she was headed now. Emotions were never a positive thing. She’d tasted the honey but craved more. It was written clear as day.

 

The ringing cell phone went unanswered, the office phone silent because of orders to his assistant. Spinning his chair around to face the long table it was quite a shock to see someone sitting at the other end, back to him.

She sat leaning back, hair pulled to the side to show the low cut back of her dress. Even without seeing he knew her feet were kicking slightly, an old habit that others would have called endearing. “I think now you’re just bragging. To work your way into my home like this. You were never a bragger, Rebecca.”

The name caused her to sigh softly, glancing around at him. “I wasn’t bragging. Consider it a surprise, Mycroft. You missed me, yes?”

There was no obvious reaction, his body tensing for only a heart-beat but it was enough. A small laugh escaped the cupid bow mouth and he actually glared, hand moving down to a small button that had been built into the underside of the table. “You won’t push it, Mycroft. They rush in here, take me away and then what?” She asked, slipping from the edge of the table and starting to walk around to where he sat.

“A diet? Honestly, Mycroft. Why bother with such a thing?” Rebecca murmured, leaning back on the table when she was barely an inch away from his chair. The tension only grew, bordering between heat and anger. It had been a risk to actually come here but there was something she needed to know. “Those who go on diets usually do it for the promise of sex appeal, unless it’s for health reasons but that’s not why you’re doing it.” She added, reaching out slowly to touch his hand under the table.  
The ring was still in place. Feeling the cool metal she couldn’t help but let out a small sigh, body visibly relaxing.

“Jealous, Rebecca? Or should I call you something else now?” He asked, pulling his hand away and holding them calmly on his lap. “I haven’t gone by that name in years now. There’s so many to pick from but you know how it is. I’m a hundred different people, except the one I actually am. Now, don’t look at me like that, Mycroft.”

Even a strange would have noticed how often she used his name. Each time it was uttered something in his chest twitched, warming slowly before cooling quickly at his urging. It was the same any time she managed to find him.

“You came here to see if I’m seeing anyone. Honestly, Rebecca, how crude.” He sighed, relaxing back in the chair as she flushed. “I was merely checking. Aren’t you going to tell me it’s none of my business? Tell me to sod off or something else you Brits love to say?” She asked, leaning back on the table with an almost playful smile.

Breathing in the floral scent Mycroft could easily remember the time that same scent had been his downfall. A weakness that sent lustful pains to his groin and warmth surging through his chest unlike anything he could remember. The added voice only brought those memories back far too clearly for his liking.

“As if you would listen to me. You never did actually listen to me, or anyone.” Mycroft sighed, tensing as she reached out to fix his tie. It was already perfectly in place but her fingers lingered, trying to find any flaw that would keep them joined together for that moment. “I listen to everything, Mycroft. It’s what makes me so good at my job.” She sighed, tensing as well when he reached up to take her hand.

He had already seen the ring, feeling it only increased the steady beat of his heart. “You broke your own word to come and see if I had a girlfriend? Truly, Rebecca, you are quite the fool.” He said, bringing the hand to his lips to place a small kiss over the ring. “You haven’t pushed the button yet. You’re quite the fool yourself.” She murmured, cupping the smooth cheek and smiling to herself.

Once upon a time the hair line had been fuller. The eyes softer but still calculating. There hadn’t been so many tiny lines around his eyes, and the pants were a few sizes smaller.  
“I missed you so much, Mycroft.” She breathed, going to stand even as he did. She felt seventeen again. A foolish girl that had considered throwing the direction of her life away in hopes of happiness a certain young man had promised. Breathing in the musky scent her grip grew tighter, tears springing to life as his grip grew tighter around her.  
There had never been a doubt what her life would be. They’d both actually know the direction of their lives. That hadn’t stopped them from being foolish and making silly promises as they’d laid there together for the first time in each other’s arms.

With her head tucked so perfectly under his chin Mycroft placed a hand over the bare part of her back, feeling the familiar skin he had at one point spent hours worshiping. The faint memory of her laughter bringing a small smile to his own face before she pulled away.

“You’re not really seeing anyone, are you?” She asked, searching his face.

She might have aged better than him but the traces were there. In that instant she was again a young girl allowing herself to be jealous, the grip at his hands begging for any answer but what might be the truth. He could easily lie, which would send her away and end this madness. She would never know the truth, no matter her sources. Rebecca never spied on him, just like he never attempted to spy on her.

“Have you grown draft in your work, Rebecca?” He scolded, placing a hand at her waist. A little bigger than in youth but it still sent a thrill through him to touch her.  
As her cheeks turned pink Rebecca let out a tiny huff, moving to pull away. “Don’t play games with me, Holmes.” She warned.

His grip tightened, keeping her against his body. “You know it’s the truth. You were never a dense woman and I won’t have you playing the part now. The moment you saw me you knew I wasn’t seeing anyone.” He said firmly, squeezing her waist slightly.

Playing mind games with Mycroft was rather hard. Not impossible but that wasn’t why she was here. They would never send her to gain information from Mycroft Holmes, if only because she would refuse. The one person she would never try to twist was Mycroft. The only weakness in this world for her was Mycroft Holmes.

It was exactly why he never mistrusted her the rare times they broke and found each other. “What? Were you dieting for me? How sweet of you. I wish I had gotten something for you too.” She chuckled, pressing against him now.

As she started to move slightly he raised an eyebrow in question. “Dancing? You are still the same foolish girl.” He sighed, trying to pull away even as she grabbed the front of his shirt to keep him close. For once the wrinkles didn’t bother him in the least as she pulled him down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

It was barely a brush of lips but it sent chills through the both of them, stealing their thoughts. “You used to dance with me, Mycroft. Remember our favorite song?” She murmured before starting to hum the familiar tune. “Someday, when I’m awfully low. . “ Rebecca started singing softly, pulling away now to stand in a more open part of the room.  
“Remember when you were young and filled with the same foolish thoughts as other boys? You actually tried to sing that to me after our first time. Remember it, Mycroft?” She laughed; watching his eyes flare and hearing him clear his throat. “I had been trying not to remember that incident.” He grumbled in annoyance, only looking back when she started humming again and held her hand out to him. “Are you so lazy now you won’t even dance with me, Mycroft?”  
No one knew how to push his buttons like her. It really was a problem that needed to be dealt with.

Stepping closer he took her hand, bowing down to place a gentle kiss at the back as she gave a small bow of her head.

He hadn’t danced since those foolish teenage years. It was an easy motion to fall back into. With their hands joined on one side his other took the proper place at her waist, her own free hand resting on his arm. The look on her face no doubt matched his own. Their eyes meeting from across a crowded room, both surrounded by more adults than kids their own age. A party thrown by his parents during the summer months. It was merely another event that they’d been forced to attend.

The music was faint, shared only by the two of them. The band playing ‘The Way you look tonight’. It had truly been comical how interesting that night had turned out.  
Instead of adding a final dip with the last mental note he pulled her close, taking the offered lips. The music started to fade as their arms went around each other again, bodies pressed flush together.

For a man who claimed to be on the lazy side there was nothing proven with his kisses. Always fierce and almost demanding. He sucked at her tongue gently, taking in the small sigh of pleasure that escaped her.

The idea of a cab crossed both their minds no doubt but there were rooms here. For the long hours put in and for the rare visitor they might have to house. No doubt Mycroft had spent time in these rooms, rarely sleeping of course. Sleeping took away from working, and while he might be known as a man who didn’t like to strain himself there was still plenty to do.

There was only one room without some sort of camera hidden away. An elegant suite done in gold and crimson colors. Something his mother would have adored with the old fashioned four poster bed with draping curtain surrounding it in the thin haze.

It wasn’t bugged in any way, shape or form, which was what Mycroft was aiming for.

“Ugly room.” Rebecca commented, taking a few steps towards the bed as she reached around to pull down the short zipper.

Those calculating eyes were glued to her like they had been years ago. Stealing a quick glance over her shoulder she gave a small smile, allowing the black cloth to fall into a puddle at her feet.

His eyes hungrily devoured the sight of pale flesh that exposed itself. The garters that held the skin toned hose up were buttoned with little bright red hearts. No doubt a touch she gave them herself. “Like the buttons, hm? You love little details. Don’t you, Mycroft?” She purred, stepping out of the dress matching heels to step closer to the bed where she slipped past the thin gauze of a curtain.

Through the drape he tried to soak in every detail she offered. Full breasts covered now only by the skin toned backless bra. Teasing him with the offer of more to see, more to taste. How many times had he had her? More than enough to get her out of his system but now Mycroft felt like a drunk man thrown into happy hour. There was still so much to take.

The perfectly fixed tie was tossed to the ground, joining the dress in a forgotten pile.

With surprisingly power she pulled him onto the bed, flipping them over to where she sat on top. They were no longer the youthful teenagers that had spent an embarrassing amount of time enjoying each other. Age took its toll on everyone but she hardly noticed it as nimble fingers undid each button, pushing the shirt open until she leaned down to kiss his chest.

Mycroft felt like his mind was slowly dulling, an affect only she ever had on him. As she sat up his breath caught, stunned at the beautiful smile that greeted him.

“Would you be cross if I were to say I’ll never grow tired of the way you look at me, Mycroft? I know how you hate sentiment.” She teased, smile fading as large hands ran up her sides. How did she ever manage to stay away?

 

“John, do you think you have the self-control to stay away from someone if it were for their own good?”

The odd questions really shouldn’t have been a surprise anymore but this one was different than some of the others. Looking up from the paper thoughtfully John Watson gave a frown, thinking it over. A simple answer would be ‘Yes’ but Sherlock didn’t want simple or ease. When he asked a question it was for an actual answer.

“If I really had to but does the other person know it’s for their own good? There are a few other things to know before doing something like that.” John said carefully, watching Sherlock stand in front of the window with the violin held carefully in his hands. Ever since returning from the market something had been off. Not that he’d dared ask. Sherlock wouldn’t just tell him anyway, that was pretty clear.

“Well, actually, it would be staying away for both your good and their own good. Them being your weakness.” Sherlock added slowly, stroking the strings of his violin like one might the hair of their lover. “Seems a shame, doesn’t it? To love someone to that point but not be with them. Does this have to do with a case?”

Pale eyes looked through the fogging glass, taking in everything. “You could say that. A woman who stays away from her one weakness, and a man who keeps his own distance because she is his weakness. It’s an interesting example of human weakness.” 

Judging by how Sherlock was speaking this wasn’t exactly a case through Lestrade or someone like that. A little thought started building up in the back of his mind but it sounded beyond ridiculous. 

“Mycroft?”

“You’re learning, Watson. Good boy.” Sherlock murmured, lips twitching when he heard the familiar ‘huff’ of annoyance. “Before you start, I don’t know who and I don’t know as much as I could. I would hope you wouldn’t be so foolish but asking Mycroft will gain you nothing.”

“I still say it sounds kind of depressing. How long has this case been baffling you?”

“I’m not baffled!” Sherlock said tensely, glaring at John who just smirked at him. It was always fun to tease Sherlock a bit.

Huffing softly he turned attention back to the violin. “Almost thirty years.” He finally answered, amused by Johns gasp.

“One of the most dangerous people you will ever meet. Her only weakness, which I know of, is my dear brother. Mother was never very fond of her but I doubt they ever met. Just anyone that had a hold on her eldest son was obviously disliked.” Sherlock chuckled.

 

The kisses trailing down her back had Rebecca giving a low chuckle, licking her lips.  
“Mycroft. . “

There was no need to reply. She’d only said the name just to enjoy it. Dwelling on him when alone only led to thoughts she was hardly proud of. When a hand grasped hers she gave a smile as the cool metal of the ring dug into her hand.

They’d been enjoying each other’s company for long enough to lose track of time. A serious risk for both of their professional lives. Pulling his hand closer she kissed the ring, almost hugging his arm as he went to his side beside her, running a hand over her bare back. “I must look a mess.” She sighed, seeing tangled curls from the corner of her eyes.  
“Of course you do. It would be strange if you did not. Now stop fishing for compliments.” Mycroft scolded, pulling her into his bare chest.

Her amused laughter made it clear she took no offense to his words, not that he had expected her to. Rebecca wasn’t a stupid woman. It was obvious to her that he found her attractive no matter the state of her dress, or lack of, her hair or anything else.

As one of his hands slipped lower the laughter died on the edges of a sigh, her hazel eyes slipping closed as he placed a gentle kiss at her throat.

“Mycroft. We shouldn’t again. . “ She whispered, arching into his touch.

How many times had she uttered those same words even while begging for him to never stop?

Laying her out again he placed a kiss first at her collar bone, amused by the slight bruise. It would need to be covered with make-up should she return to work soon. Already her soft thighs parted for him, her hands tenderly brushing over his back.

Their song crossed his mind as he took to memory the sight of her head thrown back, cupid bow of a mouth parted on a gentle moan. The tangled hair spread out over the creamy gold pillow case. Looking down at her he tried to burn it into his mind.

As he entered her he leaned down to meet her lips for a kiss, moaning her name as small teeth bit at his lower lip and long legs wrapped around his waist. He would always remember how beautiful she was to him.

 

It wasn’t the movement that woke him; in fact Mycroft had remained completely unaware of that. The chill was the first thing to catch his attention.

As he reached around there was nothing, something he had a feeling would greet him. Opening his eyes he sat up, finding the sheets pulled up to his waist. Scanning the room he took quick note that his clothes were neatly folded on the foot of the bed but the black dress and shoes were gone. There was no other trace that another person had been in here.

Mycroft took in a small breath, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Always like this! The facts didn’t make the burn less painful in his chest. With age it was becoming a tad bit easier to accept, which was more a blessing than curse.

Pushing the drape aside he went to stand, ignoring the heavy weight of the ring on his finger. The rare emotion peeked its ugly head in that moment, giving him the urge to throw the blasted piece of gold across the room and leave it there to rust.

With the thought gaining favor he grabbed the neatly folded clothes, sneering at the wrinkles he could already see from their time crumpled on the floor.

A little noise caught his attention, eyes drawn down to the cherry wood floor.

Kneeling down to pick up the little item he almost thought it was one of his own buttons until the bright red and heart shape of it caught his eye.

“Honestly, Rebecca, you are still the foolish girl.” He grumbled, picking the metal button up carefully. Another little reminder, hm? A brilliant fool. His brilliant fool.


End file.
